


It's too late (to apologize)

by beaches_at_treasure_island



Series: Prompts [3]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Detailed murder, Episode: s02e05 Adam, Graphic Description, M/M, Murder, Pain, Serial Killer! Ianto Jones, Universe Alteration, Violence, What Have I Done, You Have Been Warned, detailed body disposal, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 14:30:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5094143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beaches_at_treasure_island/pseuds/beaches_at_treasure_island
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I got the urge to write some Serial Killer! Ianto after Season 2 Episode 5 : Adam. This is the result. Painful, major character death, violence, gore mentions, will probably need tissues. I can't say more, really. Spoilers, sweetie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's too late (to apologize)

Ianto tosses in his sleep, remembering, no dreaming, about his latest kill. She was so young, so sweet, so... blonde. Ianto just hadn't been able to resist. And all the time that Ianto spent lovingly slicing into her pale, soft skin, the girl had been crying out, pleading for a doctor, her doctor.

Ianto had laughed and laughed as bloody tears ran down her cheeks, intermingling with her mascara, leaving gruesome tracks on her face. 'The poor, poor girl,' Ianto had thought mockingly as he slid his knife over her left hip. 'Silly little girl,' he'd snickered while she whimpered again for a doctor as he'd mirrored the cut on her right hip. She'd lasted much longer, bleeding and in pain, then Ianto had expected. Longer than the others, certainly. It wasn't until over thirty-five percent of her body had been covered in wounds too deep to survive that the girl had fallen, wilted like a rose.

Ianto had pouted, made a moue of disappointment, then gone to work disposing of the body. Lovely business, that, but an unfortunate necessity given modern forensics. God, he missed his childhood, when a missing girl meant flyers and memorials and telling the useless, unhelpful police to bloody shove it and fuck off to bumble up someone else's lives.

No, these days, the police were everyone's friends, swooping in to save the day. Unless, of course, Torchwood swooped in first, or second but with priority.

Ianto buried the body in varying distances in a twenty mile radius from the center of Cardiff, splitting the girl's body into twelve parts. Her personal effects were studied and burned. Some poor girl from the Powell Estate in London, traveling with someone it seemed, and only in Cardiff for a day or two.

They'd never find her; not all of her, anyways. Her head was buried in the side of a cliff, her hands in the ocean and a vat of acid respectively, her feet under two different churches. The girl's torso was wisely deposited in a known Weevil hotspot in the sewers. The other parts were also cleverly ridden of, in locations like the hospital bio waste and an incinerator.

Ianto can still remember getting taste of her blood, the salty, metallic flavor that sprayed about as he methodically severed her into twelve sections. The taste had excited him, still does.

Ianto wakes, warm and sated in his and Jack's bed, pants wet and sticky. Jack isn't beside him, isn't in the room.

"Jack?" Ianto calls, sitting up and sliding out from the silk sheets. "Jack, are you there?" Pulling on a robe and tying the sash, he climbs up into Jack's office.

Jack is sitting at his desk, empty bottle of vodka beside him, playing with his favored pistol. His eyes are red with long shed tears.

"Jack?" Ianto asks worriedly. "Jack, what's wrong? What's happened?"

"The... The Doctor called. He was in town, with Rose. Somehow, he brought her back from whatever parallel universe she was stashed in. Doesn't matter now, though. The TARDIS confirmed it. She's dead. Found a thigh behind a law firm and her torso carried by a Weevil. DNA matched. Oh, god, Ianto. My sister's dead, Rose is dead." Jack sobs into Ianto's chest as the Welsh man clutches him comfortingly. "Oh, god... She's dead."


End file.
